


Getting Attached

by sodaschemes



Category: LEGO Monkie Kid
Genre: Blood and Injury, Character Death, Death, Found Family, Wukong is a father now I don't make the rules, the violence isn't THAT graphic but you can never be too careful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodaschemes/pseuds/sodaschemes
Summary: Wukong does everything in his power to ensure that he doesn't get attached to his successor. It doesn't work.
Relationships: MK | Qi Xiaotian (LEGO Monkie Kid) & Monkey King | Sun Wukong
Comments: 37
Kudos: 63





	Getting Attached

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I actually haven't read Journey to the West and am using my very limited knowledge outside of Monkie Kid to write this. Hopefully I was able to do a satisfactory job.

_ Don’t get attached _ .

He’d been telling himself not to since the very beginning. He was immortal, and the kid was just a human. A human worthy of being his successor, yes, but a human nonetheless. He would die one day, and Wukong  _ knew _ that getting attached would only make it a thousand times more painful.

If he held the kid at an arm’s length, when the inevitable happened, he would just be able to  _ move on _ . He’d find himself a new successor, someone else who could wield the staff.

As long as he  _ didn’t get attached. _

The kid made it so awfully hard not to. He was so full of life, excitement constantly buzzing under his skin. He asked questions, he did his best to learn. Even if he lacked confidence and focus, he was still a perfect successor.

_ A good  _ successor. Not perfect, not anything all that special. He was just a normal kid that Wukong had absolutely no business caring about. He wasn’t fond of MK at all. 

He wouldn’t let himself be.

_ Don’t get attached _ .

MK’s lack of focus would be the death of him if Wukong didn’t set him straight.

Not that that would be that bad — no, yes it would — but he wouldn’t be  _ that _ upset if something were to happen. He couldn’t be. It was inevitable. He knew it would happen  _ eventually _ .

He didn’t care that much about his kid — fuck,  _ the _ kid. The. Not his. MK had enough father figures already, he didn’t need another one in the form of  _ him _ . It would be better for both of them, in the end.

_ Don’t get attached _ .

He was honestly legitimately offended when he realized that MK had been running around with some other mentor. He tried to tell himself that it was insulting, and not just downright hurtful.

But above that was the concern he couldn’t help but feel.

MK wasn’t acting like himself. He was all… dark, and too quiet. So unlike himself. It was all wrong, and Wukong intended to get to the bottom of it.

Purely so he could have his student back, of course.

_ Don’t get attached _ .

Seeing the kid pinned to the mountainside, looking absolutely terrified out of his mind had nothing to do with caring about him and everything to do with the fact that it was  _ Macaque _ of all people who had him pinned there.

The relief in MK’s voice when he showed up was irrelevant, he was focusing on his mortal enemy right now. Not on  ~~ his ~~ the kid.

He would have won if suddenly it wasn’t Macaque he was going to hit, but  _ MK _ . He faltered, unable to make himself hurt the kid, and he was immediately beaten back and pinned to the ground by Macaque’s shadow clones.

He was so stupid, he shouldn’t have fallen for that. It was a cheap trick, and he  _ knew _ MK was still where he had previously been. Pinned to the mountain, struggling to the best of his ability.

And then Macaque summoned the smoke monster, and — he was going after MK. He was going to kill him.

The fury and the panic that rose inside him weren’t important, he just — he had to stop him. He had to save his kid.

And as MK managed to land that final blow, and Wukong threw himself around him, protecting him from the explosion, only one thought was going through his head.

_ Fuck _ .  _ He’d let himself get attached. _

After the months of tug of war with himself on this matter, he should have seen it coming. He should have known that the  _ second _ he let his guard down would be when it would happen.

It had been so  _ sudden _ , too.

It was a hard enough battle that Wukong had needed to get involved, yes, but he’d been sure that it would be a piece of cake from there. MK was doing so  _ well _ , too. He’d been learning so fast.

One moment the kid was doing great, dodging and hitting and doing everything perfectly.

The next, the tip of a blade was sticking out of his chest.

The sword jolted MK’s entire body, and he went still after that, gasping so loudly that it was the only thing Wukong could hear.

The world froze.

MK didn’t even scream. He was barely moving, his breathing beginning to pick up as his mind caught up with him, and Wukong was already running.

The sword was ripped out of his body, and MK fell to his knees. The blade, Wukong realized in a distant sort of horror, had been the only thing holding him up. And that made it that much worse. 

The first thing he had to do was take out the bad guys. That was easy, he could — he could do that. He just had to be fast.

He knocked them all unconscious — or maybe they were dead, but he didn’t particularly care at this point — before rushing to MK’s side, placing his hands over the gaping wound. There was so much blood.

MK gasped again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, deep breaths,” Wukong said, even as his own heart raced and bile rose in his throat. He swallowed it down.

“It hurts so bad,” MK whimpered.

“You’re gonna be okay, bud,” he promised.

“I—” he began to choke, and blood dribbled from his lips. “I’m  _ not _ —”

“ _ Yes you are, dammit! _ ”

He couldn’t lose his kid. Not here, not now. Not so soon. Not so young. Not like this. He’d always known it would happen, but he’d imagined it so much less bloody. So much less painful. He’d thought they would have more  _ time _ .

MK choked on a sob. “I’m going to die.”

“I won’t let you.”

“You may be the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven,” MK said, breathing shallow, “But I’m not sure there’s a lot you can do about this.”

“Bud, the entire Court of Heaven  _ loves _ me. I’m not letting this happen.”

“They hate you.” A statement. A fact. Hopeless.

“They… tolerate me.”

“I’m going to die, dad.”

Wukong’s world halted violently. MK had just called him…  _ that _ . On what was essentially his deathbed, in his very last moments, he’d called him  _ dad _ .

He’d wanted this for a long time, but  _ not like this _ .

He’d imagined it would be like in those fanfictions the kid didn’t know Wukong knew he wrote, where MK slipped up, forgot, maybe was too tired to think about it. Where Wukong’s brain would short-circuit, and he wouldn’t be expecting it, and it would be weird, but nice. Where MK would be embarrassed at his mistake, but Wukong would be delighted.

MK wasn’t embarrassed, and Wukong wasn’t delighted.

His child,  _ his child _ , was choking on blood, a brutal stab wound going right through his body. Wukong had known it was a bad idea to take away MK’s invulnerability, but only now did he fully realize what a stupid choice it had been.

He could have just trained the kid properly from the get-go, let him stay invincible, keep him  _ safe _ from shit like this.

But no, because of  _ him _ , here they were. With MK dying, and nobody but him here to help.

He wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to the other people that cared about him.

“You should—”  _ choke _ “You should see if Mei can hold this thing,” he said, not even bothering to gesture towards the staff. “She’d—”  _ spitting up blood, too much blood  _ “make a good successor.”

Wukong had once thought, if he’d been able to keep himself from getting attached, that he’d be able to do something like that. That he’d be able to just pass along the staff to the next person who was worthy, choose a new successor, and move on.

The thought made him ill, now.

“Thanks for giving me a chance, even if I was really lousy,” MK said, before breaking into a coughing fit.

“You were not —  _ are _ not lousy. You make a perfect successor,” Wukong insisted.

“You’re just a good teacher. You’ll find someone else, someone who can actually—”  _ choking choking choking stop choking on your own blood _ “get shit done. Defeat some demons for real.”

Wukong wanted to scream.

“I’m sorry for failing,” MK whimpered, his breathing finally beginning to slow.

No, no no no, he would fight all of heaven to keep this from happening. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. 

“You didn’t fail,” he said, frantic. “I’m the one who failed, I should have done better, I should have protected you, I’m so  _ sorry _ —”

“It’s okay,” MK wheezed, voice too soft. “You’ll find someone better.”

The kid’s body went still before Wukong could say anything against his false statement. There was nobody better than him, he wouldn’t ever find someone like that. MK was the only one perfect for the job.

Wukong didn’t have the strength to pull his hands away from the fatal wound.

The Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, quite literally had the blood of a child on his hands.

He never should have let himself get attached.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having a miserable day :D


End file.
